Well done ladies.

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In the continuing series Why does River keep posting this nonsense? I bring you the final squares of the centennial quilt.

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No it hasn’t taken 100 years to complete, it’s just the time span being celebrated by our little town.

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Does your town have yurts?

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Mine does.

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Hats off to creative women.

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And their needles.

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And now, what you’ve all been waiting for… ( or waiting to be over. Either way, you win) .. the completed quilt!

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And may I just say, bravo.

This will hang proudly in our town hall so all can enjoy the fabric wrought history.

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It’s like they built this store just for me.

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Sometimes Facebook gets it right.

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Like this store… that seems to be targeted to my sense of humor.

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Not always, but maybe. Alright… more than likely it is.

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Sounds like something I would do.

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I have an abundant supply, no problem.

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I’m definitely not. Remind me to tell you the story about my husband’s friend who called him at work to tell him to ‘get his wife under control’. Ha! As if.

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That’s me.

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Someday I’m going to have to buy one of these. It’s my favorite tag line and I’ve been searching for cocktail napkins with that phrase ever since we built the man cave bar…. to no avail.

😰

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Damn him. Her? Them!

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Remember the lovely new flower I planted in my stone wall bed?

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It now looks like this:

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My happy little cosmos?

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Not so happy anymore.

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It looks like another woodchuck war is brewing, and because no other deterrent ( critter ridder, moth balls, hot pepper flakes, essential oils etc) has worked? I just ordered the big (stinky) guns.

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Note – do not cut flowers for the house after spraying with predator urine. Your roses will not smell rosy.

🤢

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Cosmo Hell

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Oh, you thought my awful gift subscription to Cosmopolitan had run out? No such luck. So sit back and see what the young women of today are reading about this month.

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Okay then… moving on.

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Apparently there’s a dating app for everyone. Not ready for Tinder or Grindr? Try Tabby.

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Meow!

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This particular article was quite detailed and had everything you ever needed or wanted to know about circumcised penises.

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As well as a lot you ( or maybe just I ) didn’t.

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When in doubt, say nothing. Apparently my mother’s advice holds true for every situation.

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What’s up Venezuela?

Wait.. on second thought. I don’t want to know.

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P.S. I refuse to put sixty nine or circumcision in my list of tags. No good can come from that. So to speak…

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Random stuff cluttering up my phone.

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Am I the only one who does this? You see something and think to yourself… I need to blog that. Then you save it on your camera roll only to have it languish there for weeks because it doesn’t deserve its own post?

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Yeah, like that. Weird, probably worthy of a joke, but not enough to build a blog around.

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And I’m sure that’s perfectly delightful, for everyone but the chicken who’s suffocating in a plastic bubble and probably terrified at the cornucopia of sweaty flesh on display at the shore… but an entire post? No.

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Maine real estate has always been high, but right now it’s absolutely insane. When the average median price for a house is 3/4’s of a million? You know people have lost their minds. And in case you’re wondering, the cheapest price shown is in a town that was nothing but redneck trailers and two bedroom ranches a decade or so ago.

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Yes, I could blog about how no one but the wealthy can afford a home up here anymore… but that’s too depressing.

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So I’ll end with Lord Dudley Mountcatten helping me make the bed.

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Needless to say, the bed did not get made that morning.

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A green Red Claw?

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Ten years ago Maine debuted its first NBA G league basketball team.

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And naturally its mascot was a lobster. The lobster art has morphed over the years…

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But it has remained a red cooked lobster. Hence the name… ‘Red Claws’.

Mainers. We’re so clever, it hurts.

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Okay, so sometimes the mascot looks more like a demonic ant….

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A demonic ant on steroids.

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But ya gotta admit, the dude’s got game.

Everything was going well, and in the ten years since it’s inception… the team has won three division titles. But in 2019?

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The Boston Celtics bought our team. And this year?

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They not only renamed our team the Maine Celtics….

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They turned our red lobster green!

The Green Claws?

That’s just wrong. In so many ways.

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Don’t touch my weed.

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I think we’ve established Lord Dudley Mountcatten is fan of the chronic.

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He spends many happy hours face down in his kitty cope sack.

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And I spend many joint creaking hours picking it up off the floor after he flings it with intoxicated feline abandon.

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Stoned? Probably.

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But woe to the person who tries to come between the Lord and his herb.

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His Lordship is not above shredding skin to keep possession.

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Who remembers these?

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I admit I’m old enough to remember a penny candy store in my hometown. It was pure heaven for a child and the experience went something like this:

1. Your mother gave you a dollar.

2. You jumped on your banana seat Schwinn (with glittered streamers hanging off the handlebars because yeah, girlfriend… you rocked!) and pedaled like mad until you reached a hole in the wall shop by the railroad station.

( It was next to the Wo Lee Laundry run by your friend Wanda’s family. They lived upstairs and her mother didn’t speak a word of English. Poor Wanda missed a lot of childhood events helping her family clean rich people’s clothes. But it’s okay, don’t feel badly. Wanda was one smart cookie and graduated Harvard Med with honors. Somebody’s probably washing her clothes now. 😊)

3. You breathlessly entered the tiny store and the bell over the rickety old door clanged loudly enough to raise the dead. An elderly man hobbled out from the back room and took up position behind a miraculous display case filled with nothing but large jars of candy. He whipped out a small paper bag and said… go!

4. You spent a tense 10-15 minutes getting the mix just right. A dollars worth of penny candy was 100 pieces! 10 Bottle Caps or 15? 5 Pixie Sticks or 5 Razzles? Malted milk balls or Bit O Honey? Chuckles or Necco wafers? These were important decisions.

Most of the candies from my youth are gone, for which my teeth and hips are probably thankful…. but I saw this ad on Facebook last week and damned if it didn’t take me back to the mouth watering anticipation of having a bag filled with 100 pieces of customized candy.

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The original gummy candy. Why fish? Why not….

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If you’ve ever sucked on a root beer barrel? You know the exquisite combination of pleasure and pain. To hell with S&M kinky sex, slicing your tongue open on a razor sharp sliver of this sugar filled deliciousness is the very definition of ‘so bad, it’s good’.

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Nope. Those putrid pillowy abominations never made it into my bag. Uh uh.

🤨

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Lots of kids loved these, but I’m anti nut and always took a hard pass.

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Melt in your mouth little pockets of goodness right there. If I’m ever lucky enough to see them on the hostess stand as I exit a restaurant? I make everyone grab a handful and fill my purse with the bounty. Some opportunities can not be overlooked.

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This shouldn’t be so difficult.

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Forget toilet paper and gas shortages, the really rare items these days are clearly pool tables.

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As I mentioned in a previous post, the husband wants to replace our gifted (read free) inferior table with something bigger, better and more stylish.

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The problem is, in the entire state of Maine? I can only find 3 stores that sell what we’re looking for and none of them have inventory. They all told us to look online, find what we wanted and then come back to place an order.

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While we’ve narrowed it down to the classic style with tapered legs and leather ball baskets, choosing a table online means not being able to feel the quality or take it for a test drive. Heck, they all look good in the pictures…. which is why my husband has had me scouring Craig’s List and Facebook marketplace. We’ve checked out quite a few used tables and none of them have been worthy. Until I found this beauty.

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We drove an hour and a half to see it. The husband took it for a test drive.

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It was custom made in Maine of solid oak, lovingly cared for and best of all? Cheap! Husband wanted to change the felt color, but liked the table and was ready to fork over payment then and there…. but I suggested we check what it would cost to have the table professionally moved and set up in the Barn Mahal first…. and that’s when the whole thing came crashing down. We got estimates from 4 different places and the lowest was… are you ready?

$1,950.

To. Move. A. Table.

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I understand it has to be disassembled and reassembled, but damn Sam. Why on earth would I pay $900 for a used table, twice that to move it and probably another $500+ to change the felt…for a total of $3,350… when I can buy a brand new table, including delivery, set up, choice of style, wood finish and felt color, plus a set of pro balls for $3,500?

I wouldn’t. So I guess we’ll be shopping online and hoping for the best.

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Let’s play!

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Yes, again. Stop complaining.

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I’m currently binge watching Showtime’s original series Billions.

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It basically has two main characters…. the ruthless billionaire hedge fund king and the twisted US Attorney who wants to take him down. Both of them are a combination of good and bad, but I’m afraid if it comes to a choice between being a billionaire and a government employee?

River will take door number one and enjoy luxury homes, private jets, a kick ass yacht and the Lamborghini every time.

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